Bachelor Untamed by Brenda Jackson

sensitive against her skin. She was beginning to feel hot. Aroused. Sexually deprived. Her lips curved. Maybe she was enjoying too much wine tonight. Too much wine and not enough man.
    At least, not a certain man.
    She could actually admit, in all honesty, that she’d only really been kissed twice in her life. And both times by Uriel. Kisses she’d receive from other men didn’t even come close. For one, long heartbeat of a moment, she stared into space as she remembered the kiss that had taken place a few days ago in her kitchen. She recalled how her back had felt pressed against the refrigerator while a very hungry mouth had devoured hers.
    There was no doubt in her mind that Uriel was all the real-life inspiration she would need, and that he was not only capable of stimulating her body to where she would probably not only put sexy words on paper, but talk all kinds of stuff in her sleep. Especially if the size of the erection she’d felt that day, pressing hard against her, was anything to go by. No doubt he would teach her a lot, inspire her plenty and leave her wanting more, only to deliver time and time again.
    The thought was tempting, so much so, in fact, that she could feel her inner muscles quivering, the areabetween her legs tingling and the heat invading her body and taking over her common sense.
    Was this the opportunity that she had been waiting for all her life, at least since the time she’d decided she would love Uriel forever, marry him one day and have his babies? Even then, those had been the dreams of a teenager who didn’t know, hadn’t a clue just what she’d been hoping for. Now she knew.
    She sighed deeply and placed the rubber band back around the unfinished pages, placed the letter on top to put the items away. Her decision had been made. She would be the one to finish her aunt’s manuscript. Darcy was right. Aunt Mable would want it that way. She would pay Uriel a visit tomorrow and tell him that she would indulge in an affair with him.
    Picking up her items, she carefully balanced everything in her hands as she climbed the stairs. She turned on the light in her aunt’s room and went to the desk, placed the manuscript and letter in a drawer and locked it. She then glanced over at the clock. It was close to 2:00 a.m. Had she been reading that long?
    She turned off the light to leave the room, when her gaze traveled to the window. She then recalled what Uriel had said about not being able to sleep sometimes at night, and that one of those nights he had been outside, sitting on the porch, and had seen her at the window, wearing a nightie.
    Was he outside now, sitting on the porch? Restless, edgy, possibly even a bit horny? What would he do if she appeared at the window, pretended she didn’t know he was there and started removing her clothes, piece bypiece? Feeling naughty, wild, with a burst of erratic hormones she hadn’t realized she had until now, she turned the light back on and moved toward the window.
    She might wait and give Uriel her decision tomorrow, but she intended to send him a very intimate message tonight.
     
    Uriel stood at the kitchen sink and wet his hands to wipe across his face. He felt hot, filled with a fiery sensation, a primal urge, that even sleeping in the nude hadn’t eased. So he had slipped into a pair of shorts to come downstairs. He glanced at the clock on the stove. It was two in the morning. He should have guessed. This restlessness, edginess, was becoming a nightly thing around this time.
    As usual, he’d had his dreams, and as usual, he had awakened just seconds before joining his body with Ellie’s. Would there ever be a dream when he would complete the act and relieve himself of his misery? When would he feel what it would be like to be inside her body, have her inner muscles clench him tightly, milk him dry? He would have to settle for a dream, since it seemed she had decided an affair with him was not what she wanted. This had been day three, and